Every Night He Saves Her
by StarzOfDraco
Summary: Every night Buffy is gone, Spike saves her.  Never when it mattered, but every night, he saves her.
1. Nights 1 to 10

The first night…

They bury her. Six feet under, and he wishes he could lie beneath the layers of dirt and stone there next to her; two cold, broken, lifeless bodies together…always together. Instead he accompanies The Watcher and sets The Male Nurse's battered form ablaze. Imagining they are back in that bloody awful gas station instead of the very place where she took her final leap, he saves her.

The second night…

He locks himself away in his crypt suffering through every burning swig of alcohol. Sip after sip and wince after scorching wince he sees it. Her body's falling…always falling and he can see a glimmer of her soul holding on. No amount of sodding energy or mystical force would ever be able to take her out of the world. He convinces himself of it and with his last ounce of strength, he dives over the spot where her body will surely land. Cushioning her impact, he saves her.

The third night…

The Scoobies gather at the Magic Box. No tears are shed, but there's a heavy air of glower surrounding each of them. In the shadows he hides, listening…always listening. The Watcher is pacing and is the first to speak. The Watcher stresses that each of them has a duty, that it is pivotal that the world…and underworld…believes that she is alive. Funny, considering to him, she is. Stepping into the light, he makes the suggestion that no one is prepared to make. They tell him he's crazy and back to his old ways, but all he can see is her smiling. All he can hear is her telling the others that no, it will work; that it has to. Making the hard decisions that she was constantly forced to make, he saves her.

The fourth night…

The Science Witch reactivates It. The Whipping Boy is reiterating how bad of an idea it is while The Little Nibblet is huddled in the corner within The Quiet Witch's embrace. The Watcher is cleaning his glasses and The Blunt Ex-Demon is making some inappropriate comment about how it will most likely sleep with the vampires it encounters rather than slay them. Or is it possible to slay with…um…that part of Its body? He keeps his head down…always down, unable to look at the face he has missed so much, yet sees so often. When Its eyes open, they are bright and eager. His name falls off Its pouty lips, those lips he never did…and never will…taste, and It rushes to him. It takes him into Its arms and tells him he left It. That It didn't know where he was or where It was. It was dark and lonely, but he's here now and he brought the light back to It. Pulling It…her…out of the darkness that shrouded her…that kept him from seeing, he saves her.

The fifth night…

It tells him he's sexy and that It loves him, that It cannot resist his sinister attraction. The Science Witch promises she will fix It, but it's too late. He can't handle the artificial affection and storms out, running to the only place he can feel connected. At her grave he falls to his knees and he swears he can hear her. He screams, yells at the ground that he is coming for her…always coming for her. Digging hysterically, his nails dirty and his knuckles bleed. The moon is shining overhead when he reaches the coffin. If he had breath, he wouldn't be able to breathe because she is climbing out of that horrible wooden box and flinging her arms around him, desperately clinging. Whispering in his ear, she tells him that she knew he would come…that she always knew he would come. Then she disappears. She fades away with the wind. In his insanity, he saves her.

The sixth night…

He's back to the bottle, drowning himself within the liquid. Just as the numbness begins to take over she kicks her way into the crypt. She's shaking and on the brink of tears. When he reaches out to her, she flinches. She screams that she's losing…always losing. The Bitch God is too strong. They have to run. She wants his help to protect her friends, to protect her sister, to protect her. She tells him they must stick together and he grabs her by her shoulders. He tells her not to be a stupid git. That it's insane to travel as a group. Instead he convinces her that he, she, and The Little Nibblet should head out tonight…alone. The rest will head in the opposite direction. Together they leave and The Bitch God never finds them. He shakes his head and throws the bottle against the wall. In his alcohol induced haze, he saves her.

The seventh night…

He sees the tower built by the insane looming in the distance…always in the distance and he remembers. The Science Witch opens a path for him and he gets to play the hero he always knew he could be. The Little Nibblet is pleading for her life and in a fear heightened voice The Little Nibblet calls to him. The Old Geezer isn't really an old geezer and it isn't long before he feels the knife piercing into his back. He whispers a heart wrenching 'no' and he falls, but doesn't let go. His fingers latch on, pulling The Old Geezer down with him. The Little Nibblet never bleeds. She never has to jump. The world never ends. Doing as he's told, protecting the Little Nibblet even if it's only in his mind, he saves her.

The eighth night…

While the Scoobies patrol, he sits with The Little Nibblet. There's a deafening silence that lingers. He can't stand the pain ridden expression that The Little Nibblet wears so he begins telling stories. In his stories, she's dancing…always dancing, just as she was the first time he saw her. Every fight is a ballet. Every fluid movement is a seduction. He tells The Little Nibblet of The Science Witch's spell from what seems to be a lifetime ago; a life where he was able to touch her. He divulges her most well kept guilty pleasure: 'Wind Beneath My Wings' and for the first time in over a week The Little Nibblet smiles. Spending time with The Little Nibblet, sharing tales of the sister that was never broadcasted, he saves her.

The ninth night…

He slouches in his comfy chair, which doesn't seem so comfy any more, as he zones out while watching whatever teen drama is on. The characters are at some lewd college party and suddenly he's there. Jealously is stirring…always stirring in the pit of his stomach as he watches as she throws herself at the sodding Male Nurse. What's so attractive about that pansy anyways? The Male Nurse is all hair and boyish smiles. Nothing she actually craves. Before he can even comprehend what he has done, he's running away, head slinging back and palms digging into his skull. The Male Nurse is on the floor, neck snapped and chest no longer raising and falling with breath. She's berating him as he exits. Yelling at him that he better run, because she's coming for him and when she gets her hands on him, he'll be dust. She catches him, but for some reason, The Bitch God never catches her. The station turns to static and he rubs at his darkened eyes. Through the magic of television, he saves her.

The tenth night…

They all patrol. The Scoobies run like wild chickens with their heads cut off, or perhaps it's their feet that are cut off which would explain a lot, and he branches off from them alone…always alone. It's with them so he cannot be. While they hunt for the meager vamps and creatures lower on the evil bar, he ventures out for the big boys. He smells the bigger demons, the meaner ones, and he can't stand the stench. With every kill he feels the balance shift, even though he pictures the same demon and older than demon being killed over and over again: The Old Geezer and The Bitch God. Continuing her legacy and answering her call, he saves her.

Every night...he saves her...every night except for the night when it mattered.

* * *

_A/N: Like it? Hate it? Sorta okay with it? Let me know! Let's see if I actually get through all 147 days. =)_

_In case I seriously failed: Every 'He', 'His', and 'Him' always refers to Spike and every 'She' and 'Her' always refers to Buffy. Oh and 'It' refers to the BuffyBot.  
_


	2. Nights 11 to 20

The eleventh night…

The Little Nibblet begs to go home, no offense to The Watcher's hospitality of course and The Science Witch makes the easy decision to live with The Little Nibblet. Everyone helps with the move, everyone, but him. They don't bother to ask…never bothers to ask, so he lurks and they remain oblivious to his eavesdropping. They're talking about The Forehead. How The Forehead should be told what happened because she would want the man who loves her to know. He laughs bitterly at that. How could they say The Forehead loves her while _he_ was the one actually fighting at her side? It was him who stood at the top of the tower between The Old Geezer and The Little Nibblet. She gave him that honor because _he_ loves her…because _he_ saves her.

The twelfth night…

He doesn't think. He drives and doesn't stop…never stops…until the flashing lights that spell the names of people he couldn't care less about come into view. It isn't long before he's peering through a window and spying on the generic brand of Scoobies. The Forehead is there…making doe eyes at…really? He nearly vomits at the sight. Then and there he makes the decision to never think of The Forehead and The Tart again because somehow she will hear his thoughts and though he will never admit it, it would probably break her heart. Dispelling any thoughts that would cause her pain, he saves her.

The thirteenth night…

He's still watching. Not thinking…never thinking…only observing and becoming more and more disgusted. His fists clench at his side without order as he witnesses each and every passing flirt The Forehead shamelessly emits. His jaw constricts, twisting and turning as teeth bite down on any tongue, lip, or inner cheek that gets in the way. Unable to bar his bubbling emotions, he runs and tackles The Forehead, punching over and over again until The Forehead changes into The Bumpy Forehead. When The Forehead mentions something about her not being pleased when she finds out about his little fist happy excursion, he falls into a fit of psychotic cackling. None of the real Scoobies called The Forehead apparently. He allows himself to think it's because the man who truly loves her already knows, but a part of him realizes it was probably The Watcher's cautious reasoning for The Forehead not being informed. However, it's too late now. In due time The Forehead will attempt to call her and tattle only to stumble upon truth, but for now The Forehead is ignorant so he figures while he is here he will be as well and lets himself slip into his _own_ brand of ignorance…if only for a night. While in the town of stars, wading in the pool of denial…he saves her.

The fourteenth night…

It is patrolling alone when he arrives back in town, his hands still bloodied from the wailing. He has half a mind to turn the other way, even though the other way would lead him further from his crypt, and be done with It, but out of the corner of his eye he spots an ugly son of a demon tunneling right for It. He hesitates for a second, his body shaking with anticipation, before releasing a growl and literally diving into action. He can't figure out why in bleeding hell he did what he did, other than he refuses to see her get hurt…he'll never let her get hurt…even if 'her' is actually 'It' at the moment. Looking down, his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of one of the ugly son of a demon's spear like projectiles jutting out of his chest. It thanks him for the electronic-life saving maneuver, but _'Bugger this' _is all that falls from his lips before he collapses into Its arms. For a single breath, as he stares up into Its eyes, It becomes her and he saves her.

The fifteenth night…

The Scoobies research and discovers that the ugly son of a demon is a Paenite Demon whose projectiles cause their victims to relive their greatest regret for all eternity. He flashes in and out between the conversation in the Magic Box and the confrontation on the top of the tower that's been haunting him for weeks. There was no doubt…never a doubt, that this would be his greatest regret. It's different though. He has control. He knows what's coming. He dodges faster than The Old Geezer can thrust the knife and he kicks The Old Geezer off and over the ledge. Quickly, he cuts The Little Nibblet loose and carries her down the stairs which for some reason doesn't seem as looming as it did before. She smiles when they reach the bottom and she whispers to him that he saved them all. Reliving his regret, he saves her.

The sixteenth night…

They decide _for_ him that it would be best if he doesn't leave his crypt. It's all in his best interest of course. He knows that's not the case…it's never the case, but he finds no qualms in the situation. He doesn't let the others know, but to him The Paenite Demon is a blessing in disguise. He closes his eyes and is instantly transported to the top of the tower once again. It's too late. The Little Nibblet is already bleeding and she is there giving the speech he never heard. His brows pull together as his eyes dart back and forth between her, The Little Nibblet and the bright mystic energy a few feet away. She tells The Little Nibblet to live and she runs. He catches her, stops her before she jumps and demands that there must be another way. She looks at him compassionately and shakes her head, saying this is the only way and he has to let her go. He doesn't accept that and shuffles through his mess of thoughts. Suddenly it dawns on him. It's about blood. It's always about blood. He grabs her by the shoulders and yanks her into him. Without giving her the opportunity to break away, he sinks his teeth into her, fighting through the spasms firing in his skull. She gasps and he holds her tighter as she claws at his back, drinking only enough to gain her essence. Saying he's got a ride to catch, he releases her and smirks. He jumps. She doesn't. The world is still spinning. Taking a leap of faith, he saves her.

The seventeenth night…

The Blunt Ex-Demon pats him stiffly on the back and tells him not to worry. That they will surely procure some sort of smelly liquid or cream perhaps that will make it all go away. The Whipping Boy adds a non-humorous quip about how soon he will no longer be reliving that kill that got away. He grunts at that, but otherwise stays silent. The Science Witch tries a hand at saying The Watcher's patented _'Oh dear.'_ When they all question it, The Science Witch informs them that there's more to this Paenite Demon than being an ugly son of a demon. Not only will he be forced to relive his greatest regret, but every time he changes anything, anytime it no longer becomes a regret, he comes closer and closer to not existing in their world, essentially ceasing to exist altogether. More than half of those present find it easy to not care…to never care. The Whipping Boy actually giggles gleefully at the pronouncement. He rolls his eyes and leaves. It catches up to him and pouts saying that It doesn't want this 'ceasing' thing to happen. The word is harsh sounding, unpleasant, and It doesn't wish it for him. He smiles, almost a real one that reaches his eyes, breaths a quiet _'Got to go, pet' _and turns to leave. It stands on Its tippy toes, stretching Its neck out and calls to him asking where he is going. He spins around leisurely as he walks and winks back at It. Making the easy choice between his life and hers, he saves her.

The eighteenth night…

He waits by his tree. The cigarette butts are starting to pile up. The flashes are happening more frequently and a blink later he's there, at the top of the tower. There's no blood, no portal. There's nothing, but sodding metal…and her. She opens her mouth to speak, but the voice that comes out doesn't belong. He rubs his eyes and when he reopens them, The Science Witch is standing before him holding some sort of novelty mug. The Science Witch is twitchy and attempts to speak cheerily _- Yay! The Witches did a spell and poof an antidote was concocted with minimal kablooey, so yay again – _but the uncertainty and mousy uneasiness is evident. The Science Witch hands him the mug and says bottom's up! The Science Witch leaves him be and he stands there alone, staring into the cup at the God awful mixture. It's purple, goopy, and utterly unbearable to the senses. He chooses not to drink it…to never drink it. It has nothing to do with the concoction itself, it's rather surprising that The Witches even bothered, but when it comes down to it, he fancies the idea of ceasing. What's so good about living? It's not like he's actually _living_ anyways and at least in the world of looping regret, she does. Pouring out the antidote, succumbing to the Paenite Demon, he saves her.

The nineteenth night…

The Little Nibblet storms into his crypt looking scarier than The Little Nibblet had ever been before. With arms crossed and lips pursed in dissatisfaction, The Little Nibblet calls him out claiming that they all know he didn't take the antidote. That he wasn't smart when it came to the dumping. He loses his temper, kicks his comfy chair over and angrily declares that it's worth it. That he can't go back…can never go back…to a life where he failed. The Little Nibblet comments that he really must have loved her. Though it sounds more like a revelation or an epiphany, The Little Nibblet says it in the form of a question so he answers breathlessly that no he didn't love her, he _still _loves her. There's a difference. The Little Nibblet turns away and leaves mumbling that if he really loves her he'd take the cure and live…for her, like she wanted all of them to do. His shoulders drop as his insides twist wretchedly. Deflated, but not defeated, he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift off. A demonic fantasy where she lives is much more worth living than a life where she doesn't. Giving up on reality, he saves her.

The twentieth night…

He wakes already at the tower, not knowing if it's a dream, a flash, or if the line had become too blurred. It's more barren than before. The tower is floating in a space of nothingness and he can't find her. Suddenly he hears it, her voice. The fire in her tone is unmistakable as kind whispers are replaced by coarse chastising. She sounds disappointed, like she can't believe he would relent so easily…she would never relent so easily. A mug full of goopy purple goo appears in his hands and she demands he drinks it. How can he expect to save her if he isn't there to do so? There are too many important things he has left to do, but he is useless like this. She is yelling at him, shrieking at him to get over himself. He has to protect The Little Nibblet…he has to protect Dawn. He nods to the voice, to her voice, and he drinks. Sacrificing a happier ending, he saves her.

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_A/N: Thank you so much to all of you that reviewed, favored, and/or alerted. You guys rock! _

_Added a reference for the nicknames..._

_The Watcher = Giles_

_The Little Nibblet = Dawn (who from now on will be referred to as Dawn)  
_

_The Whipping Boy = Xander_

_The Science Witch = Willow_

_The Blunt Ex-Demon = Anya_

_The Quiet Witch (not mentioned in this chapter) = Tara_

_The Forehead = Angel _

_The Tart = Cordelia...cause, well, why not?_

_It = The Buffy Bot_

_The Bitch God = Glory_

_The Male Nurse = Ben_

_The Old Geezer = Doc  
_

_Every he, him, his is still **always **Spike and every she and her is still ****__always __Buffy =) Thanks for reading and giving this a try, I know it's a bit difficult to follow right now so it's all much appreciated!_  



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